


bullets/love

by steelcorpz



Category: I Brought You My Bullets You Brought Me Your Love - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Violence, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Demolition Lovers, Emotional Hurt, F/M, give or take the whole things gonna be all hurt with left comfort, no posting schedule ill post when i want, not graphically written i just dont want 2 trigger anyone, the comfort will come a little later, this is going 2 be like a track by track of bullets but its about the demolition lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29815530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcorpz/pseuds/steelcorpz
Summary: The story of a man, a woman, and the corpses of a thousand evil men.
Relationships: The Lady/The Gentleman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. romance

**Author's Note:**

> obsessed w the concept of the lovers rn so have this!!

_“I shall love_

_again_

_when I am obsolete”_

-Audre Lorde, Undersong: Dreams Bite 

The pavement is cold and rough in comparison to his face, hot and wet. His vision starts to speckle when he feels the pavement grow warm from a liquid matching the one on his face. The dizziness is spreading and the numbness makes him giddy. To outsiders he looks like the drunk aftermath of a fistfight but to him he’s a saint. 

Church bells ring and angels sing. He’s been here before and will be here again. This is never the end. This can’t be the end. He’s met the fists of ex-lovers, ex-friends, ex-parents, and everyone else and every time he comes out alive. He was put here to defy and to keep defying. 

His vision goes black but he can still hear his heartbeat reassuringly thumping on the cobblestone. It won't be the end. 

\-- 

Her breath is hot but the water is hotter. There is a candle dripping onto her toilet seat to light the room as she steps into her bathtub. She’s been warned it's unsafe to bathe in the dark but she’s protected by a force beyond. She can’t see it but when her skin makes contact with the water the blood comes off and dilutes the water. It’s nothing she’s unfamiliar with. 

Her ears ring violently and the sound from the rooms below are what keep her sane. She’s been here before and will be here again. Cleaning a stranger's blood off her body is nothing she’s unfamiliar with and isn’t something that will go away. One day, she’ll be able to honor herself by looking at what she’s doing. 

She puts her head down, takes a drag and let’s the world slip out of focus. It won’t be the last time. 

\---


	2. honey this mirror isn't big enough for the two of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t do this to me,” Tears started forming in his eyes. The tears were for show; they meant nothing. The gentleman turned the safety off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im bad at names pls forgive me

“Baby, let me in” He’s pounding on the door but the gentleman is barley even awake. With nothing but pills and booze in his system it’s hard to keep his vision steady. Last night was a shit show for all he can remember and most of the time it's best not to remember. Relationships start and end all the time. The more hearts get broken the easier it gets to manage the next. 

“Baby, please,” In the pauses between words he can hear gasps for air. He’s crying. “Please let me in. I’m so sorry about last night.”

He’s said that before. And if it wasn’t him it was someone before him, or someone before that. The gentleman stood up and made his way to the door. He didn’t want to face him drunk, he’d just get upset and use that against him. He wasn’t in the mood to be guilt-tripped about his self destructive tendencies but he wasn’t in the mood to sleep through a post-breakup argument. The doorknob croaked open and the other man threw himself onto the gentleman, starting at his lips. It wasn’t a kiss to makeup, it was as if an animal had crawled inside of him and needed to get out. That animal was hungry. Hungry for comfort, hungry for passion, and hungry for blood, it doesn’t matter where it comes from. 

The gentleman reluctantly shoved him off and he fell against the door. “Nick…” he started. 

Nick walked back over to the gentleman and pressed himself to him. “Nick, we’re not working out. I want you to leave.” He didn’t move. The gentleman raised his voice, “I want you to leave my house and I want you to leave my building. I don’t want to see you again.” 

He backed up but didn;t leave the room. “Babe…” he started. 

The gentleman grabbed a gun from under a pillow on the bed and turned it to Nick. “Don’t you  _ fucking _ ‘babe’ me! Get out!” He pointed the gun at the door and then pressed it against Nick’s chest. 

“Don’t do this to me,” Tears started forming in his eyes. The tears were for show; they meant nothing. The gentleman turned the safety off. 

“Leave.” Finally, he did. 

He stepped backwards, not taking his face off the gentleman and opened the door quickly and stepped out of the room. Only once the door was closed and locked did the gentleman put the gun down and let himself break down. He shuddered forward and barley missed the corner of a shelf. He tried breathing, heaving his chest up and down. He tried to focus on that and reminded himself that it’s the life he chose. 

He laughed. Quiet at first, but the laugh spread over his body and came out as loud as a gunshot. Nothing was funny, there’s nothing to laugh over but that wouldn’t stop him. Tears kept coming down his face and laughs came out just as often. Nick’s voice repeating in his head “Oh baby, let me in.” 

He fell back into the drug and alcohol induced sleep, and nothing following would matter. 

He dreamed of angel wings in a proactive cocoon, holding an equally bloodstained hand, and halos around the most dammed. He saw himself in a distorted black mirror, he saw his mom, screaming for him, he couldn’t see his friends but he knew they were mad. That feeling of hopelessness surrounded him, grabbed at his throat, and choked him into consciousness. It was only for a minute and like clockwork he drank himself back to sleep. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that was a little interesting at least


	3. drowning lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello again, old friend” She says, looking down. Except looking back at her is her own face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY im skipping the vampires chapter cause it doesnt fit. this ones a littke longer i hope that makes up for it

The body came before the dress did. 

She didn’t mean to kill her but she was going to die that night anyways. She had so much to drink and so much rage in her veins that the lady could take the other girl down quickly and quietly. It wasn’t anything out of the usual, but the girl, her name is Rose, had the most beautiful dress. The lady vaguely remembered her mentioning she had gotten engaged. The lady had her eye on the dress, and the fact that it was stained in blood was just a plus. 

She brought the girl out to the lake by her house and danced with her until Rose didn’t know the difference between the sky and the ground. The lady brought her into her arms and stabbed her square in the chest. The blood splattered out of Rose’s heart and landed on the lady, the floor, and in the water. She had friends who could sew up the hole in the dress.

The lady didn’t remember much else from that night. There were memories of moments, like photographs. Rose’s body in the lake, purple and bare. Stepping into the bathtub, the candle illuminating the diluted water. The dress sealed in plastic and put in the mail. Smoke covering the mirror, hiding her body from herself. 

\--

Sometime the next morning, the lady brought herself downstairs. She put on a robe, made her coffee, tied her hair back and put a record on. Every day was the same, they bled into each other like ink in water. Her feet were cold, the tile was colder. Cream, no sugar. Everyday was the same and the numbness only faded to let her be mad at everything. 

She put slippers on and walked over to the lake. She looked for Rose's body but she couldn’t see it anywhere. The lady blew on her coffee. It was early enough that the fog was still very thick around the lake, creating a grayscale haze that you couldn't see five feet through. She wasn’t new here though, and was able to make her way to the edge without falling in. Even in clearer parts of the day you still wouldn’t be able to see the bottom of the muddy water and it was deeper than it looks. 

She took her slippers off and put her feet in the water. It was unpleasant- the water was below freezing and the feeling on her feet felt like someone's guts and algae, and she held on to that feeling. She put her coffee down to her right and laid down. The grass was sharp, like a thousand tiny blades on her arms and it intertwined with her hair. 

Hair is such a telling story of who a person is. Cells dying and reemerging as something beautiful that can be crafted in any way. 

She remembers being a kid, staring down her mirror, calling to God, begging to know why she was given the body she had, why her hair grew in unwanted places, a mark of someone she’d never be. Why her hair had to be short only in the place she hated it the most- on top of her head, like a dunce cap, labeling her as someone she could never be. Why, if He had created her with love that He would put her through this much turmoil. The nights of glaring at the mirror, pulling at her sheets, tearing through skin. Those nights where agony and anger would get the best of her. Those painful,  _ killer _ nights where she’d rather be dead than have to live in her body. 

But her body brought her to where she is today. Her coffee’s gone cold but she sips it anyways. The fog has lifted enough to see the reeds poking out of the water on the edge of the lake. The lake was never clean. Debris and other things float past her feet. A beer can, a leaf, a rose. Then she sees the body, Rose. She can’t be back already, usually the bodies take a week to come full circle. 

The fog has lifted enough for the lady to make out the full body and so she wades into the lake, standing inches away from Rose’s corpse. 

“Hello again, old friend” She says, looking down. Except looking back at her is her own face. 

Fear pumps through her body, through her  _ bodies, _ and the lady puts her hands around the other’s throat. 

_ Fear is a powerful motive. Millisecond decisions out of pure nervous reactions. Looking up at herself, she knows there should be something else. She should be gasping for air and her vision should fade. Her air waves should be blocked, she should be choking out her own blood staining both her faces and screaming for something living to hold onto. She should push herself off, scream  _ “What the hell are you thinking?” _ She should be feeling something,  _ anything _ but there’s nothing. She’s been hollowed out, a mess of bones and blood and nerves.  _

For a split second there’s peace. Her hands around her neck, purple from the temperature, and the glassy look in her eyes. But of course, they aren’t her eyes. It’s Rose. 

She picks up her mug and walks back to the house. It’s warm inside. 

\--

Later that day her dress comes back. It fits like a glove, like it always was her’s. The lace around her neck and down her arms over a simple white. It was long, but not wide and it made her look like herself. It made her black hair stand out and she could only imagine what it would look like in her blood. 

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have anything 2 say you can comment but its nbd if you dont want 2


End file.
